The Good News in a Cross of Ash

For out of [the ground] you were taken; you are dust, and to dust you shall return. ~Genesis 3:19b

These are the words spoken on this day, during the imposition of ashes. Words that remind me of my very real mortality. That no matter how much moisturizer, exercise, healthy eating, nor my socio-economic status, education, faith life, etc., change the truth that I am growing older. I will die. 

Generally, I don’t like to dwell on that fact. I’m in that age group where I probably should have some sort of will, but don’t. Because I like to believe that I am too young yet. While there’s the possibility of accidental death, that won’t be me. I’ve got years and years and years. Right? 

Maybe. Maybe not. But either way, at some point I will die. The water in my body will evaporate, that which remains will turn to dust. And nothing can stop that. 

I am dust. To dust I shall return. 

And while a rather in-my-face statement, for me it is not a frightening statement. For I know that my Redeemer lives. 

For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. ~Romans 6:5

It’s not just ash – dust –  rubbed on my forehead and words affirming my mortality spoken. Those ashes are in the shape of a cross. And in that cross is the implicit promise of Christ as my redeemer. 

If I keep Christ central in my life, I can face my fears. My fears of my mortality. My fears that I am not enough. My fears of being forgotten. Maybe you too have variations of those fears, or others that stalk you.

But in facing our fears, in trusting that in Christ we are claimed as children of G-d – forever, then those fears no longer run the show.

One of the things that fears do is make us cling to things. For some, buying things makes them feel alive. For others, in being able to have things it provides a sense of assurance of being alive. For others, having the right things means feeling like they are keeping up with the Jones’. At least for that one moment.

But stuff only gives us a fleeting feeling of enoughness. Too often what stuff actually does is get in the way of our relationship with G-d. So much stuff there’s no room for the Holy Spirit. 

What is a classic Lutheran truth of faith is that in letting go, we find. That is having less, we discover abundance. That in no longer hiding behind things, we realize we’re standing in the light of G-d.

One of my Lenten practices is to intentionally let go of things. I invite you to join me for your own intentional practice. If you us Facebook, you can join Giving it Away for Lent, where we share scripture, articles, and other helps, as well as what we’ve let go of in our own homes.

Come and see.